


Hinata

by thefirecrest



Category: Naruto
Genre: (and even Kakashi), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Parenting, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Clan politics be damned, Father Hinata, Fix-It, Gen, He's super mad at all the bad parenting in the shinobi world, Hinata collecting sad sad children, Hinata is a father to all, Hinata is a good dad, Hinata is actually a grown ass man, Hinata scolds two grown men like they're bad children, I'm looking at you Hizashi, Like Naruto, Oc was a father, Parental Hinata, Political Alliances, Politics, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, WHERE ARE ALL THE GOOD PARENTS???, Why is bad parenting a popular tag but not good parenting???, and getting yourself killed and leaving him to a terrible fate, and sasuke, emo shit like that, good parenting, he's here to fix it, learning to be good fathers, learning to be good parents, like... ya know... not abandoning your son, oh yeah, one where he believes life is a futile struggle against the inevitable, other bullshit politics stuff, political bullshit be damned, those two men are the hyuuga clan head and his brother, which they are, yeah... that kind of bad parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefirecrest/pseuds/thefirecrest
Summary: Tragedy strikes a loving father of two and he finds himself in a strange new world, instead of the tender embraces of death, with a new father who could really use a good talking to from an actual good dad. Now if only Hiashi and Hizashi could figure out why the five-year-old heir of the Hyuuga clan was scolding them on proper parenting practices. OC-as-Hinata, fix-it, GEN, learning to be good parents...





	

It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.

Life was difficult after Gabby left. We were already in debt and suddenly I found myself a single parent of two. The hospital bills continued to pile up and it wasn’t as if I could take Lizzie out of the medical care she desperately needed. I wanted to be angry at Gabrielle for being too weak to stick it out, for leaving me to this  _ mess,  _ but the last six years had already taken their toll and I was too exhausted to work up the high energy emotion. Instead I did what I was supposed to (what my ex-wife  _ should’ve  _ done instead of running away from her problems). Another job was on the list and throwing the last of my pride out the window when I begged my boss for yet another advance.

Lizzie was an angel through the whole thing, bless her precious heart. The bubbly eight-year-old didn’t even cry when I finally broke the news to her why her mother wasn’t going to visit anymore. Instead she grabbed my large and wary hand (too wrinkled and old for my age) and offered me a bright smile, “You’re still here Daddy.” She had always been a daddy’s girl.

My other one… Josh did take the transition nearly as well as his younger sister. The moody teen lashed out at me more than before, getting irritated at the littlest of things. I tried to be understanding, I really did. But after coming home from now three and a half jobs and working my  _ ass off  _ to keep this fragile family together his obligatory teenage angst was the straw that broke the back. I didn’t yell often but the boy constantly egged me on. The rift between us continued to grow. He had always been a Mama’s boy. I suppose he blamed me for Gabby’s leaving. That I drove her away. Maybe I did…

Funds were already drained. I did my best to stay away from Josh’s college savings (he was only two years away) but a few small withdrawals here and there were unavoidable. I just wanted what was best for my kids. Life wore down at me but I had to keep going, no matter how much I just wanted to lay down and never move again. It would certainly be easier, but that’s not how life worked. I’m a good father. Or at least I tried to be (though Josh would beg to differ).

I had hoped for a lucky break. Begged and wished for a second chance. An opportunity to improve our lives. Anything really. The idea of more shady dealings grew more attractive by the day. But what would happen to Josh and Lizzie if I got arrested? I wasn’t that desperate yet but I was getting there.

_ I had hoped for a lucky break. _

I thought my prayers had been answered in the form of a specialist introducing himself and a experimental procedure that would cure Elizabeth of her brain and spinal cancer. We went over the procedure and the cost (I would probably be paying it off for the rest of my life but that was nothing if it could save my baby’s life). An 89% success rate was so much better compared to other surgeries suggested. Oligodendrogliomas was difficult to remove at the stage it had affected Lizzie, I didn’t think we were going to get a better option. I agreed, signed the papers, and the next three months were spent prepping for the surgery.

Life seemed to improve a little after that announcement. Josh calmed down a little when news of his sister’s procedure reached him. I was glad that whatever animosity he held against me didn’t spread to her. That they would both have someone if something ever happened to me.

The day of the procedure arrived. I took the day off (my first boss, Mr. Alberam, bless that man, apparently had the date set already and told me not to dare come into his shop on that day) and spent the morning with Lizzie watching some of her favorite shows. She had a rather avid obsession with these japanese cartoons called anime (we bootlegged everything for the sake of money, sorry dear creators). We spent the morning watching some of her favorite shows such as Ojamajo Doremi, Princess Tutu, Fairy Tale, Fruits Basket, and Naruto. I rather liked the last two myself. Especially Naruto. Maybe it was because the blonde main character rather reminded me of my own blonde and cheery daughter with her never wavering fighting-spirit (she got her blonde hair from me). Or maybe because that broody one reminded me of Josh (he got his dark hair from his mother).

She turned on a new episode of Naruto when I got the call. I was struggling a bit to follow the storyline because she was on some outrageous numbered episode, like 500 or something (which makes sense considering all the free time she has being bedridden), but I had a general idea. A degree in political science actually came in handy when following the rather convoluted plot for a children’s show. I told Lizzie to go ahead and start watching without me as I picked up my cellphone. It was Josh.

“Josh, shouldn’t you be at school why are you-”

_ “Hello, is this Mr. Corgman?” _

My hairs stood on end at the unfamiliar voice, I heard the thick murmur of a crowd in the background. I replied slowly and unsurely, “Yes… Who is this? Is this the school? Is Josh in trouble?”

_ “Mr. Corgman, my name is Officer Mot. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to go to St. Joseph hospital. Your son Joshua has just been in a serious  car accident on Abington street. The ambulance is driving him to the emergency room now.” _

I froze, voice stuck in my throat. I felt my heart skip a beat and everything in the room had begun spinning. Without thinking I stood up and walked out of the room. Lizzie gave me a questioning look at my silent departure but it was best if she didn’t hear this conversation.

I closed the door behind me, took a deep shaky breath, and held the phone closer to my mouth. “I-is… How is he?” I swallowed hard.

_ “My deepest apologizes. Joshua is in critical condition. He was crossing the road when a speeding car hit him. The traffic delayed the paramedics and Joshua was unconscious by time they arrived.” _

My heart leaped into my throat and I gripped the phone tighter in my trembling hands. “A-ah… Thank you officer, I-I’ll be right on my way now.” My mind whirled, _ don’t I have something else to do? _ I couldn’t think.

_ “My deepest condolences Mr. Corgman.” _

I wanted to shout at him  _ not to say that  _ because Joshua wasn’t dead ( _ yet _ ). He wasn’t, he couldn’t be. But I just thanked Officer Mot again before disconnecting the call. I stumbled, brain working on overdrive to figure out my next move.  _ I need to go to the emergency room, St. Joseph is on the other side of town. But… What is it? What do I need to do? _

In my stumbling my arm knocked into cold metal. I unconsciously flinched away from the sudden change in temperature before looking down at the door knob I had knocked into and dread filled me.

_ Oh,  _ I thought,   _ Lizzie’s procedure. _

My mind blanked out as it overloaded with emotion and thoughts, so clouded that it all became white. Mindlessly I turned the knob and entered the room. Lizzie was still watching her show with an excited look on her face as she mimicked playful punches from the ones she saw on screen. At the sound of my entrance she paused in her excitement and looked back up at me.

She must’ve seen the horror on my face because her next words were, “Daddy. What’s wrong?”

I blinked in surprise and quickly brought a smile up to my face. My baby needs me right now and this is no time for a mental breakdown. I need to be fully here right now.

“Nothing sweetie,” I said to her. “Nothing’s wrong. Daddy’s just got to run a quick errand and go see Josh okay? I’ll be right back, promise.”

Lizzie pursed her lips and evaluated me then she smiled back, “That’s okay Daddy. I know Joshie can be a BIG handful,” to emphasize her point she raises her arms to draw out a large circle looking adorably serious. “I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl now! Joshie needs help right? So you should go help brother.”

For the utmost time  _ bless her soul. _

“Thank you sweetheart,” I sigh in relief quickly running around the room to collect my satchel and things. I quickly pat her head and give Lizzie a loving kiss on the forehead (she gives me the warmest hug ever) and I call my goodbye to the girl and leave.

On my way out of the hospital I flag down one of the nurses I recognize (Amanda is her name) and I quickly explain the situation to her. I know the surgery can’t be delayed on the account that I’m not here so tell her to let the main surgeon know that I may be late but that I’ll try my hardest to get back as quick as possible. Amanda readily agrees and shoos me off to the parking lot. She’s such a sweet woman.

The car ride over to St. Joseph is fraught with tension and worry. All those bottled up emotions that I kept in the presence of my daughter began to spill out. My emotional state along with my rushed to get to my destination probably wasn’t the best idea when driving but I managed to get to the hospital in one piece.

Josh was in emergency surgery when I arrived.

The nurses were bustling around, frantically trying to keep order in the emergency room. Apparently there was a huge accident on freeway 94 and the hospital was flooded with injured victims. They were low on staff and there were more than one patient in need to immediate care with not enough doctors to go around.

I stood in the middle of that mess for a good fifteen minutes, failing to flag down a single worker as they had all been hustling to do a million different jobs, until someone got to me and directed me to a sign in area I had not noticed before. The verification of my identity had been rushed but everything was in order and I was hustled to a seating area right outside the room they were working on Josh in. 

I sat there for four hours.

In that time the officer that had been on the phone had approached me and we went over somethings about what to do from that point. Apparently the drunk driver that had ran over my boy was in stable condition and would likely be released that afternoon. I was offered the man’s name so that we could go over the legal proceedings later but not his room number in fear of retaliation. Which was probably a good idea as I had been furious to find out that the man responsible was in perfect health while my boy’s life was on the line.

After the officer left I sat there for a long time, starting to feel the exhaustion at the day’s events catch up to me. At one point I received a call from Amanda telling me that Lizzie’s procedure had begun. And as I sat there for hours I also started to feel the years catch up to me. I just felt so tired and old. I covered my face with my hands as I contemplated the events in my life that had lead up to his disastrous point.

Four hours later, the head surgeon walks out of the operating room and approaches me. I try to gauge his expression but it’s hidden behind a surgical mask. My heart grips as I wonder what he’ll tell me.

“I’m sorry Mr. Corgman. We tried everything we could…”

My world started falling apart around me.

“... but we could not save Joshua’s life.”

And it shattered.

I can’t really remember what had happened after that. Somehow I had pushed past the doors and into the room. I can’t even remember if I was allowed to or not but I had made my way past all the surgeons (all of them giving me eyes full of pity. But pity won’t bring my son back), and collapsed next to the operating table where my son laid covered in a sheet.

I had pulled the sheet off of his face and took in his calm expression. I brushed a hand through his dark hair and soaked in the sight of my son. Looking so calm and unlike his usual embodiment destructive energy. Eyes closed and steady, I could almost believe he had been sleeping.

But he wasn’t.

I gripped my boy’s head in my arm and for the first time in years, not even when my wife left me to this fate, I cried.

I broke out into hideous sobs as I clutched Josh closer to me. Closer and closer still, but so far away. Far enough that I’ll never be able to reach him again. I can’t be sure how long as kneeled there, holding my dead son in my arms and just crying my heart out to the cruel world.

Sometime later I was pulled away from him and led somewhere else where a male nurse tried to comfort me. But I was numb by that point. Distant and empty. Nothing in the world felt real, this was all just one terrible terrible nightmare. I was just stumbling through limbo without aim or guidance.

Except the nightmare wasn’t over.

Amanda called.

_ “Mr. Cogman, you need to get over here right away. Lizzie needs to see you.” _

_ Lizzie. _

_ Right, I can’t break down here. I still need to care for my daughter. I need to be strong. For her. I can’t give up now. I’ve got to go to Lizzie. I’ve got to go to my daughter. _

With Lizzie in my brain as the only thing driving me forwards, now my  _ only  _ reason for existing, I stood from my seat and made a direct path towards my car. Then a direct path back to the other hospital.

I was barely even aware of the people around me when I entered the wing that Lizzie’s procedure room would be. If I had been aware I would’ve seen those same pitying eyes that had mocked me from Josh’s surgeons. But I did not notice them, too stuck in my single line of thought.

_ Get to Lizzie. Be strong for Lizzie. Get to Lizzie. Be… _

Amanda noticed be when I appeared in the hallway and she quickly directed me into the operation room. Something about that struck me as odd.

_ Why isn’t she in the recovery room? _

But all thoughts were pushed away when I saw Lizzie. Laying there on the operation table ( _ just like Josh  _ my brain tormented) with a blanket bunched up around her. I felt alarm bells go off in my head as I saw her sickly pale complexion and how she obviously was having a hard time focusing on anything and staying awake.

“Daddy...” she called out weakly when she saw me. Her green eyes lit up a little with happiness but other than that her usual energetic disposition was dampened and lacked energy. As if she couldn’t work it out.

My voice cracked as I approached her, “Hi baby.” The emotional black hole, that I thought I had fallen into when I was wrung dry from holding my dead son, receded and plunging me back into a torrent of choking feeling. My head was still trying to decipher the meaning behind Lizzie’s room placement while my heart sung out with grief on some fact I couldn’t pinpoint yet. I reached my frail looking daughter, her hands weakly grasping for me, and I took them into my larger ones. I was trying to hold back tremors.

“Hey baby,” I cooed again, taking a seat on the table. The thick blanket sunk under my weight and I was momentarily started by the lack of body heat emanating from beneath it. I held Lizzie’s hands closer to me and placed a delicate kiss on her knuckles. The ten-year-old let out a giggle and leaned in closer to me. I held her tiny, frighteningly cold, body to mine and wrapped my arms around her form. Her head nuzzled my chest.

Amanda shifted behind me and I sensed that she wanted to say something but then she paused and decided to leave the room. Lizzie and I were alone.

“Don’t worry Daddy,” my sweet girl murmured to me. “Everything is going to be fine. How’s Joshie?” That nickname, that Josh had found so irritating yet put up with because he, despite being a troubled son, was the best big brother in the world, was filled with affection.

I almost paused at the question, my heart picked up speed and I felt all the grief from hours past build up inside me. I should tell Lizzie, she has the right to know.

“Joshie is fine baby,” I whispered into her blonde hair, probably to hide my anguished expression of pain from her. “Joshie is just fine.”

The little girl in my arms sagged in relief, “That’s good. ‘Was worried…” she really was the sweetest thing in the entire world. Too good for all the bad things that world encompassed. I pressed her closer to me. Maybe if I held on tight enough I wouldn’t lose the last good thing I had in this life.

That thought struck me hard. Because I had be denying the facts before that moment. The room she was in, Amanda’s saddened voice laced with pity, the weak and cold obviously  _ dying  _ body I held in my arms. Oh god… My little Lizzie was dying.

She seemed to sense my despair because her little arms wound around my waist and gave me a tough squeeze. The motion seemed to take some exertion because she let out a feeble little wheeze when she did so. I didn’t scold her for speeding up the process though. At her core, Lizzie was a soul build to care and comfort. To bring happiness to others was the greatest source of happiness for herself. She would die doing what she loved.

“Don’t cry Daddy.”

I blinked, not even aware of the thick tears trailing down my face and dropping delicately onto her blonde locks. I sucked in a deep shaky breath and held her even closer. She returned with a tighter hug.

We stayed like that for a while.

Lizzie let out a series of coughs that shook her small body and I rubbed soothing circles into her back. Her breaths soon became shallow and laborious and I feared the worst. She blinked up at me with those bright blue eyes and flashed me a reassuring smile. Despite myself I felt a little better at the sight of it and I tentatively smiled back at her.

Her voice came out small and thin, “Daddy, I love you.”

I blinked back tears.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

I held her close until her arms grew weaker and eventually fell from around my waist. I sat there for a while longer, and for the second time that day, held my cold child in my arms and feeling the world crash all around me. Except it was more than just crashing and falling now.

My world was completely and utterly obliterated.

Eventually I got up and untangled myself from Lizzie and laid her gently back down onto the table. I gave her a single soft kiss on her cooling forehead before covering her with the blanket. I then left the room.

Amanda was waiting for me outside. The sky was dark out. Standing next to her was the surgeon head of Lizzie’s experimental operation. I couldn’t find it in myself to blame him though. We knew the risk. That meager 11% rate of failure ( _ death _ ) was the best chance we could get in the short time frame we had. This was the best opportunity we could have gotten. I just didn’t think that Lizzie would be among that 11%. She didn’t deserve it. She deserved so much more, the best things in life.

But God isn’t fair, and neither is the world.

“My sincerest condolences Mr. Corgman,” the surgeon said. I can’t even work up the energy to remember his name. “We tried everything we could,” those same words a second time today, “but there were unforeseeable complications during the surgery. Elizabeth held on admirably. She was a strong and brave girl.”

My soul shook at that word. She  _ was, _ as in past tense, as in she was no longer with us, as if she no longer existed.

Did I even exist?

I ignored the doctor and kept walking. Amanda made a sad noise at the back of her throat and took a step towards me, “Mr. Corgman…” But her voice died off when the surgeon placed a hand on her shoulder as if to say “leave him be. He needs time.”

Perhaps he wouldn’t have stopped the nurse if had known what would happen next.

The walk to the parking lot and to my car was a blur, as was the aimless drive. I drove all night, blind blank and unthinking. My body was on autopilot and I had receded into the darkest parts of my consciousness where fact and reality couldn’t hurt me with it’s malicious thorns.

Somehow, I came to a stop at a familiar place.

The sun was just beginning to rise when I stepped out of my car (when had I parked it and turned it off?). The sight of the familiar place brought my consciousness to the forefronts of my brain as I began to wake up. I stepped up to the railing and briefly allowed the feeling of wind across my face and the rich smell of the salty ocean to comfort me.

Half-forgotten memories were drudged up as the smells and sounds stirred my soul (they seemed to be from a lifetime ago). Flashes of my family, of a still-present Gabby and tiny Lizzie and a happier Josh, all enjoying the summer breeze at the beach. Back before Lizzie’s sickness locked her up in the hospital for good, before my ex-wife left me, before Josh turned bitter and salty. Back during a simpler time when we just could up and take a break from city life and enjoy a short weekend in a rented cabin next to the ocean. And flashes of this very cliff, where we had often spent snapping up pictures and relishing at the feeling of being so high and at the top of the world.

As my mind flashed through those memories my body grabbed hold of the railings and hoisted me up and over them. I leaned back against the cool salt-coated metal and appreciated the breeze one last time. Then I pushed away from my hold.

And plunged into the crashing waves below.

* * *

 

I was startled from what felt like a long sleep when piercing cold ripped through me like a knife. My fuzzy mind brought up equally fuzzy pictures of a cliff, the ocean, and my apparent suicide. That seemed to correspond with the sudden cold if I had fallen into the freezing morning ocean in the middle of January. The fact that I also couldn’t breath and felt like I was suffocating supported this hypothesis.

Except it didn’t feel like I was drowning in water. Not that I’m intimately acquainted with the sensation of drowning, so what do I know? I had thought somewhere in my mind that I would simple die upon impact.

Suddenly there was a harsh burning slap on my ass. I cried out in shock, a rip tearing from my sensitive throat. The action was followed by an unconscious reaction to inhale. I expected for my lungs to fill and burn with water. Instead, to my shock, warm delicious and soothing air poured through my mouth. The relief was instantaneous and I almost cried out with joy.

Death wish or not, there’s nothing quite as euphoric as waiting for pain only to be met by comfort.

A strange foreign string of sounds toned from above my head, one that I could barely pay attention to as I greedily breathed the air. I was reminded of something being off about the situation when the warm sensation beneath me suddenly  _ moved.  _ I may have let out a shout of alarm when I felt my entire form being whooshed through the sky. I tried to blink back the irritating blurriness of my eyes to no avail.

The sensation that I can only describe as having been passed from one warmness to another occurred. My brain spun from all the sudden disorientating movements and I instinctively clung onto my newest platform. That’s when a voice, that distinctly of a woman, murmured close to my ear.

_ “Hinata…” _ The blurry woman cooed to me. The word was meaningless to me as I had no idea what it meant, and also because I was more preoccupied by a startling revelation. I could feel the warmth of her  _ giant  _ face permeating through the air and unto me.

And somehow, through all the confusion and disorientation, I came to the realization of what was happening to me.

I was a baby.

* * *

 

Hinako smiled down at her beautiful child. She held the babe close to her chest and observed the cute crying face of her firstborn. Hinata’s face was scrunched up and red and her eyes (Hinako marveled at how they were already open!) were the definition of beautiful pearly Hyuuga eyes. They darted around in confusion, looking unfocused.

The nurse next to her made a comment about the eyes. Some concern about the child opening them too soon. But Hinako waved those concerns off, her baby was a strong Hyuuga after all. This was a sign of strength to come and not one of weakness.

She leaned her face close and murmured her first words to her child. “Hinata,” she cooed affectionately, heart filling up with near choking emotion.

There was a moment of concern, however, when Hinata seemed to tense up at the mention of her name and her cries abruptly ceased. The nurses in the room had paused in their actions and had looked over at the mother-daughter pair. The unconventional reactions of the babe drawing their attention, and even Hinako had to take a moment to steady her heart from the abrupt silence that filled the room.

A quick once over revealed nothing wrong with Hinata on the surface. The newborn hadn’t stopped breathing and didn’t appear to be in any pain. Yet the eerie hush that had befallen the room set everyone on edge. Afterall, no self respecting (paranoid) ninja would be so obtuse as to not pick up on such an conspicuous change. Years of battle hardened instincts screamed out in alarm that something was not right and each occupant of the room (from Hinako, the two Iryo-nin nurses, to the remaining two civilian nurses) tensed up immediately the cries ceased.

The mother in question feared for her baby’s well being and began searching for anything that could’ve attributed to the dynamic shift in atmosphere. A search which yielded no results as there was no outside force affecting her newborn. Had any of the occupants of that hospital room known better, they would’ve suspected the source of the sudden (silent) commotion to be the newborn herself. Alas, no one would believe such an outlandish theory nor had it even occurred to any of them to doubt the integrity of a baby they had all just seen born with their naked eyes and delivered with their own hands.

Even so, the hesitation and feeling that something was not quite right sat with them all even as they all resumed their duties as if nothing were wrong. Hinako herself unconsciously (not  _ completely  _ unconscious as all good nin were well versed in the practice of introspection, not the least of which the prestigious Hyuuga head of clan’s honorable wife herself) pulled her tense child closer towards her. An action that inadvertently caused the grown man within the child’s body to tense up even more as he struggled to comprehend his situation.

He would be at a loss for much longer after that day, and it wouldn’t be for a long time before he comes to terms with the outcome of his suicidal decision that fateful day in another world.

For now, at least, he fell asleep in his new mother’s loving arms, sheltered from the deadly dangers of this brave new world whilst plagued by nightmares of his own children’s faces in fitful slumber. Hinako would later confide in her husband about their lovely firstborn’s beautiful eyes and the fear that something was amiss that day in the hospital room. Two pieces of innocent information that would have great and unintended consequences years to come. And it was there in Hiashi’s mind, that day, that his daughter’s fate was sealed.

And it was also there that “Mr. Corgman”, (former) father of two (but a father nonetheless), changed the fate of the Elemental nations as a butterfly that dares to beat it’s wings in a land far off, and was erased from the face of existence forevermore and reborn as…

...Hinata.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> Yeah... I have no idea where I'm going with this. It started off as a little plot bunny just innocently gathering in my brain. Some half baked idea about how angry a father from our world would be at Hyuuga Hiashi and what kind of rant he would give him. Then I started wondering about the integrity of Hizashi's own dubious choices as father and his decision to abandon his son in a cruel cruel world for the sake of his twin and clan. And then this was born.  
> I wasn't even ever planning on posting this or even finishing the first chapter. This just kinda wrote itself after several sessions of just writing for fun. It's nice to just open up a document and write leisurely without the pressure of updating consistently (as was my experiences in the past when I wrote really really shitty Naruto OC-inserts on Wattpad, bluh). And slowly, but surely, this came to fruition and I actually finished it. So wow.  
> I have no idea if I'll ever update this or whatever but if I do happen to write and finish a second chapter I'll be sure to post it (whenever that is).  
> So yeah... I hope you enjoyed. :)  
> -TheFireCrest  
> (Oh! And please tell me what you think about this. Is it an interesting idea? Would this be something you'd like to see more of? Was there too much OC background? Etc. Etc. Or if you just wanted to say hi. I love comments. <3)


End file.
